


Yeehaw

by hellcsweetie



Category: Suits (US TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, PWP, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:20:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26296303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellcsweetie/pseuds/hellcsweetie
Summary: Donna and Harvey try something new in bed.
Relationships: Donna Paulsen/Harvey Specter
Kudos: 15





	Yeehaw

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a tweet commenting on Sarah Rafferty's cowboy hat in an Instagram picture ;)

Donna’s laugh rings in his ear as his hands skim her sides. It’s one of their first nights together, and the first night where Harvey feels like they truly have time. The night they got together was a mess of limbs and sweat, both almost more intoxicated by each other’s presence and by the _finally_ of it all than by the sex itself. Neither one of them lasted long during any of the rounds, he barely remembers anything but the feel of her around him and the way her voice sounded when she moaned his name. The high of being together again after thirteen years already driving them crazy before they’d even started doing much and so they had no interest in focusing on positions or technique, they just focused on each other. 

The following times had a different kind of urgency; they were still making up for time lost, and so the overwhelming wave of emotions they’d experienced before gave way to an all-consuming need to, well, fuck. They didn’t need to look into each other’s eyes anymore, didn’t need to feel every last inch of each other’s bodies touching, and so he’d pounded into her hard and fast against her kitchen counter, and her shower, and on her dresser. She’d relinquished all control, letting him take her how he wanted, maybe because she could sense he still hadn’t fully absolved himself of his years of denial and repression. It had helped, and his heart swells just thinking about it.

Tonight it’s about time. It’s about tasting each other’s tongues lazily, it’s about running his teeth down her neck, feeling her pulse quicken. He wants to learn every single thing there is to know about her body, how it reacts to this and that, what makes her squirm and buck her hips and bite her lip in ecstasy. He knows in time he will, but he wants to start tonight. At least he already knows how to make her laugh.

He catches her lips again before she’s entirely done grinning, her mouth stretched against his and slackening as he sucks on her bottom lip. He kisses a trail down her chest, lapping at her nipples, blowing hot air onto her wet skin. She watches in silence, a small smirk in place as he goes further south. She’s already waiting for him, legs parted, heat emanating from her core. He loves her like this, disarmed and open; it’s not a behavior of hers he was used to.

He runs the tip of his tongue from her entrance to her clit and Donna groans. He smirks and dives in again, applying more pressure this time as he teases her folds. He feels her legs relax as she lets out a deep sigh, lifting her hips slightly towards him. He loves making her laugh almost as much as he loves making her feel good. He doesn’t know how he managed to spend so many years not doing that.

Harvey continues his ministrations and by now Donna is whimpering, one hand fisting his hair tightly and the other kneading her right breast. He loves it when she does things like that, kneading her own breast or toying with her clit as he drills into her; it makes him feel like she feels comfortable with him, no need to perform or act, like she can just do whatever she wants to do to herself to aid in their search for pleasure.

He traps her clit between his lips and flicks his tongue over it repeatedly, and her moans grow in volume and pitch, but soon her hands reach for his cheeks and she pulls him up, bringing his lips to hers. He’s pretty sure she didn’t come yet, so he waits for her explanation, enjoying the way she groans at her own taste on their lips.

“I wanna come with you,” she mumbles, and there it is. Her declaration sends a sharp wave of heat down his spine and his dick throbs, growing impossibly harder.

She pushes against his chest gently and he lays back, letting her lean over him. Apparently tonight it’s her turn to take control. She looks down at him, leaning up on her elbow, and smiles tenderly, as if she’s seeing him for the first time. Maybe she is; he’s let go of every single barrier these past few days and he thinks he’s never been more raw and vulnerable, more bare. But for the first time that doesn’t scare him - he wants her to see all of him.

Donna leans down for another kiss, then starts laying her own trail of wet, sloppy kisses down his jaw and neck. She slides down his body with her tongue and teeth, and his muscles tense in anticipation of what might happen. She doesn’t slide all the way down, though; instead, she straightens up on her knees next to him with a devilish smile and turns around. She repositions herself and swings a leg over his hips, hovering over him and leaving ample room between them.

She grips his cock, gives him a few pumps that already leave him lightheaded, rubs her thumb over the head to spread precum down his shaft, then holds it in place. And then Donna sinks down on him, letting out a low, strangled moan, her head falling back. She waits a second for them to get used to each other and, once he’s fully sheathed, she hooks her legs beneath his on the bed for purchase.

Donna straightens up and places her hands on his thighs for support. Even this movement is enough to punch the air out of his gut. Then she looks back at him over her shoulder with the same naughty smirk she gave him as she dragged him to her bedroom on their first night, and starts sliding her hips back and forth and _fuck_.

She’s barely making any moves at all, just gliding two inches or so along his shaft, her ass rubbing against his pelvic bone. She’s going slow, an almost torturous pace, but he doesn’t have it in him to complain because her hair is falling down her back and her smirk is infectious. He runs his palms up her back, enjoying the feel of her smooth skin as he hears her breathing speed up a little. 

Donna picks up the pace, rubbing more fervently against him and he lifts a hand to her hair, toys with it, tugs on random strands, fists her red mane between his fingers.

Then suddenly, on a swing backwards, instead of going forward again she uses her thighs to lift herself along his shaft, all the way to the tip, before sinking down again. She starts bobbing herself on his lap and he groans as he sees her full breasts bouncing in time with her movements. Her body is glorious, supple and beautiful and exactly the right size to fit his in every way. He wishes he could touch her properly but he doesn’t want to lean all the way up, doesn’t want to disrupt this moment in any way.

He grabs her waist and helps her along, pulling her hard onto his lap and thrusting in time with her to hit deeper. She starts whimpering, the sound scattered by their hips slapping against each other. The wet, dirty sounds turn him on even more and he feels almost feverish.

He loves her, so much. He hasn’t told her yet and he doesn’t know when he will, doesn’t know if he truly knows all that loving her entails, but he does know he loves her. And he spent years dreaming of this, but now he knows the sex and the physical stuff is just a consequence of this love; he wasn’t chasing a repeat of The Other Time, he was chasing the happiness and the high he feels not only as her warm folds envelop him, but as he sees her smile, as he hears his name tumble out of her lips almost inadvertently, as he watches her caress his chest in the aftermath. And all of that is the love, he knows it now.

Donna slows down, lifts herself to the head of his cock and - he has no idea how she does it but she does - clenches her walls against his tip, circles her hips then slides down again. He moans long and low at the feeling, focusing hard on not coming right then and there because it’s only been a few minutes. She looks down at him over her shoulder with a proud smirk and repeats the motion, earning another moan from him. _Jesus_ , this woman.

She picks up the pace again, moaning and keening and her hair is flailing up and down and there is no other word for it: she’s riding him, quite literally, and he thinks the name _reverse cowgirl_ has never sounded more appropriate.

He’s halfway out of his mind by now, only concentrating on the feel of her around him, filling his senses in every way, and trying hard to make her feel as good as she’s making him.

Then she settles back on his lap, circles her hips on his groin a few more times, pressing their skin together. He pushes up, burying himself to the hilt inside of her until there is not a single millimeter of air between them. He touches her everywhere he can reach, pulling her wrists, caressing her arms, grazing the sides of her boobs and her hips.

Donna leans forward, bracing her palms on his shins, and arches her back. Her hips lift off of him again and he sees his glistening shaft appear from inside her with unprecedented clarity. It’s hypnotic, watching it disappear between her folds only to reappear again. He hates that he can’t see her face properly or lick her nipples but he _loves_ that he can watch their joining from this angle, unobstructed. There’s something madly erotic about watching their juices mix and her pussy stretch around his cock as she arches her back and bobs her ass again and again, picking up pace until they’re both practically vibrating against each other.

He cups her ass cheeks, kneading them, spreading them so he can reach deeper inside of her each time she undulates her hips down towards his. She keeps looking back, her face contorted in pleasure, the smug smirk long gone as she bites her bottom lip fiercely.

They’ve done other positions and had sex more times than he’d ordinarily deem healthy for a four-day period but there’s something about the sight of her like this, taking control of their rhythm and angle, her spine a deep valley as her back arches. He’s never seen her like this before, not even during their first time together all those years ago, and it’s mesmerizing. She’s the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen and he hopes to be able to gather the courage he needs to tell her that and everything else he’s been feeling and thinking ever since she sat on him.

After a while it’s too much and too little all at once; he wants to touch more of her, feel her body when she comes. He grabs her waist gently and pushes her forward. She must get what he means, because she leans away from him, getting on all fours. He kneels behind her, enters her again and leans over her back, practically encasing her as he nibbles her earlobe, one hand kneading her breast and the other finding her clit.

He rubs her bundle of nerves and pounds into her and they moan into each other’s mouths and it’s beautiful. It takes them almost no time until her stomach contracts against his arm and she cries out, the waves seeming to hit her hard from the way her insides clench and unclench wildly against him. Her eyes are shut tight and she’s moaning and he singles in on making sure she’s done before he comes, slowing down his strokes and rubbing her clit gently as she rides the wave of euphoria.

Finally her cries die down, her breathing still heavy but more controlled. He’s kissing her neck sloppily when she nods, silently giving him the go-ahead he needed. He lets go now, speeding up and drilling into her just a few more times before he’s crying out himself, spilling inside of her, his legs trembling with the force of his orgasm.

They catch their breaths together for a second before he slips out slowly and lays back down, pulling her along. She nestles against his chest, laying a few kisses there before she wraps an arm around his middle.

“Wow,” he breathes out.

“Yeah?” he can hear the grin in her voice.

“Hell yeah.” He looks down at her, her face flushed from exertion and her lips plump, stretched into a proud smile.

“We should get you a cowboy hat for next time,” Harvey jokes, squeezing her side.

“Oh, I am _not_ feeding that particular fantasy,” Donna laughs and shakes her head, “Cowboy hats are not my style.”

“But the cowgirl is?” he lifts a teasing brow.

“I can always stop, if that’s what you want,” she teases him right back and he’s just marginally embarrassed by the fact that it probably shows on his face how much he hates that idea.

“You’re right, you don’t need the hat. You’re the best cowgirl I’ve ever seen anyway.”


End file.
